


Routine

by Angelstar



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 21:25:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18170060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelstar/pseuds/Angelstar
Summary: Or, as much of a routine as you can have with two 6 year olds involved.





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Just softness and single dads. That is all.

“Real men don’t use weapons!!”

 

“Yes they do, dummy!!! I’m a Samurai!”

 

“No, that’s cheating!”

 

“Oi, if you’re gonna pick a fight, see it through without complainin’.”

 

It was a typical Tuesday afternoon at the Kiryu household. After picking up the kids from the school next door to his dojo, Kuro stations himself in his kitchen preparing a snack of bunny-shaped apple slices and carrots. Similarly, week after week, the kids immediately run into the living room for their seemingly scheduled smackdowns: Souma with his favorite toy sword and Tetora with his infamously thick skull.

 

“Snacks’re ready. Eat up before your next round.”

 

“There won’t be a next round I’ll knock him out in one hit! OW--!”

 

Souma smirks at his friend now laying on the ground in a heap before running to stuff the entire plate of bunny apples into his mouth. All Kuro can do at this point is smirk to himself.

 

“D-d-daaadddyyyyy!”

 

“Whaddya need, Tetsu? Want the remote?”

 

Without answering, and before Kuro can fully sit down in his favorite chair, Tetora is already halfway up his legs and onto his lap.

 

“Taishou, Souma never lets me win!!”

 

“Nah, ya won that one time, remember?”

 

He is only greeted with a large pout in response.

 

“D’ya even want him to let you win? Sounds like that ain’t really winnin’.”

 

And now a sad frown.

 

“If ya don’t win by your own strength, that’s not really manly, y’know.”

 

“ TWTOWWaIF WOO DOWNT WIN OWN YOwOWWn--”

 

“Finish chewin’ first, or your dad’ll have our heads.”

 

Souma chokes down the last of his apple slices, “it’s not honorable!”

 

“Yup, he’s right, Tetsu.”

 

Tetora looks between his dad and his friend, “oh yeah. Men are honorable! I’ll just beat you now on my own!!” revelation in hand, he slides off Kuro’s lap even faster than when he’d gotten there. As if on cue to end the round of fighting, the doorbell rings through the room.

 

“Alright,” Kuro stands up and heads towards the front door, “get your stuff together, yer dad’s here.” The scuttling of little feet and some overly dramatic child screaming overshadowed any sort of greeting the guest at the other side of the door could have heard.

 

“Kiryu. Thank you for watching Souma again this week,” the bespectacled guest peers around the broad shoulder in the doorway to see what all the ruckus is about.

 

A nervous chuckle leaves his mouth before the words can, “Yeah, no problem. He’s a good kid. Glad he’s friends with Tetsu - that knucklehead needs someone like that,” followed by more nervous laughter. Another repeated action of his through the weeks: stammering around the father of his son’s best friend in the doorway. Kuro has seen his fair share of hardships and tragedy in his 35-odd years, and yet there is something intimidating about the gaze that greets him upon opening the door. Not fear, but absolutely something that makes the words slip from his mouth and his pupils go wide. Perhaps intensity. Regardless, he slides out of the way and invites the guest inside.

 

The children, however, seem to have disappeared. Though not a weekly stunt, this does happen frequently. Shuffling into a closet or under a bed hoping to play for a while longer is a genius idea to a 6 year old, however inconvenient on the parents’ part. In these moments Kuro has to wonder if those old parenting books were at all right about object permanence being learned at their age.

 

“Sorry, Hasumi, looks like they’re at it again.”

 

He sighs, “Incorrigible. Souma, time to go home,” an adjustment to his glasses and the intensity amplifies, “Do you recall our deal about our aquarium trip this month?”

 

Immediately the footsteps bound down the hallway.

 

“YOUSAIDICOULDGETATOY---”

 

“Yes, if you behave.”

 

Kuro cracks a grin at Souma’s immediate obedience. It’s obvious how close those two are...and how similar they are. Not physical clones like him and Tetora, but their personalities and reactions and interests. Or so he assumes from the few interactions they’ve had; school functions at which Kuro sticks out like a sore thumb are hardly the place for him to socialize to any significance.

 

Finally, the second set of footsteps follow.

 

“But Mr. Souma’s Dad Hasumi-San S I RRRRR”

 

“Oi, we can’t hold them up, they’ve probably got dinner plans an’ ours will be done soon too.”

 

“Taishouuuuu, why can’t they have dinner plans with us!”

 

Oh. He hadn’t considered that yet.

 

“Uh, d’yall have dinner plans…?”

 

“Taishou is really good at cooking!! I Promise!! I didn’t even help this time!!”

 

All Kuro can really do is look away and ruffle at his son’s hair. Kids.

 

“Well, I would hate to intrude.”

 

“Dad if we can’t stay I’m gonna commit sepsis!”

 

The tot’s face goes serious while his father’s grows more annoyed, “I suppose a home cooked meal would be healthier for you than take out for the seventh night in a row. And you mean seppuku, which, no you won’t.”

 

“The kid takes his samurai stuff seriously,” another nervous laugh from Kuro as the children rejoice.

 

“I have no idea where he picked it up from….”

 

“I get it. Tets--Tetora’s got a karate movie thing right now.”

 

And with Keito’s ensuing smile, their schedules gained a new repetitive weekly activity.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing with this yet :3


End file.
